


Big Bad Wolf

by Cyn



Series: KB Fics [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Community: kinkme_merlin, F/M, Incest, Prostitution, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 01:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyn/pseuds/Cyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uther wants to be the only thing she can remember, the only thing she can feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Bad Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'sensory deprivation' square on my kink_bingo card and for the KMM prompt found [here](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/16289.html?thread=14234273#t14234273): Morgana/Other. Little Red Riding Hood. Up to you who gets to 'eat' her (Not actually, do not want cannibalism).
> 
> Warnings: Incest (implied and as a fantasy), prostitution, sensory deprivation, dubious consent.

"What big eyes you have." The girl can't talk, her mouth occupied by a gag, but Uther likes to imagine that's what she'd say. Her voice low, husky with desire, with the same smirk that Morgana likes to use when reprimanding everyone. 

"All the better to see you with, my dear," he'd respond. To prove his mental words, Uther gazes at the girl in front of him, bound and spread for him. Her back is a slim expanse of pale skin, her ass tempting him already, dark curls hiding her sex from his view, and he can just get a glimpse of her breasts from the angle she is held captive. 

Uther strips but the girl doesn't move; she doesn't even know he's in the room, thanks to the hood she wears and the magic restraints woven over her body, denying her of every sense except touch. He wants to be the only thing she knows while they are in this room. 

"What big hands you have." Uther can't mimic Morgana's voice, doesn't try, just listens to the echo of her voice in his head. He leaves his gloves on and reaches out to trail a finger down her spine, pulling the first response from the girl. He grins as she jerks and jumps against her bonds, sliding a finger between the cheeks of her ass.

"All the better to touch you, my dear," Uther whispers, and presses a finger inside. Sometimes, when he has the girls kneeling before him like this, he wishes for different things. He wants to see their faces as he pushes inside, wants to watch their eyes go dark with desire, wants to hear them moaning his name. He wants to be the one covering their eyes, choking off their breath, blocking out every other sound beyond him. 

But if Uther wants to pretend that these pretty, slim girls with their dark curls are Morgana, then this is the way it must be. No one can achieve just that level of condensation that gets under his skin, makes him want to grab her and fuck her against his desk. So he settles for these girls, removed from every sense except one, and he fills them with his touch. 

He fucks the girl with his fingers, relentless and brutal, loving the fact that she can't move away, can't wriggle beneath him, that the only thing she can feel is this. Sometimes, he wants to ask if it's possible to make them smell him, taste him - but that requires more magic than Uther is willing to acknowledge. He won't tempt it. 

The girl is clenching around him, covering his gloves with her juices, so he draws his hand back, using the slick to push a finger in her ass. The girl shudders and arches into his hand as much as she possibly can. It's not much, but it makes Uther smile. He pushes her further up on the bed, the sheets dragging against her bare knees and elbows, and climbs up behind her, hands kneading the smooth globes of her ass. 

"What big teeth you have," he hears, and "what a big tongue you have," once again in Morgana's voice. It used to be Ygraine's voice he heard, when the girls had blonde curls at the juncture of their thighs, bigger breasts and hips. It hasn't been her voice for a long time though, ever since Morgana began developing breasts and Uther found himself alternately horrified by and accepting of the fact that his illegitimate daughter turned him on, that her flashing green eyes made his cock rise, and he woke up dreaming about her mouth around him. 

"All the better to eat you with, my dear," Uther whispers, bending his head to press his tongue against her ass, where his finger had been a moment ago. The tight hole flutters against his tongue and again, Uther remembers the fact that the girl beneath him can only feel him, nothing else. He wonders how it feels for her, the press of his tongue against her, his fingers digging into her ass. Does she like this? 

Would Morgana?

He pushes his tongue in her, feeling her muscles tense beneath him, and nips at the rim of her hole. It's impossible to take her mouth, which is a disappointment, because he wants to fill this girl every way he possibly can, make it impossible for her to forget him. He wants Morgana to remember him, crave him, wants to be every sense she has. Normally, he teases the girls as long as possible, but today it's impossible. Morgana had been around earlier, arguing with him about a business merger, while Arthur pretended to be interested, and he'd had to hide behind his desk, fearing Morgana's too knowing eyes. He'd been hard before walking in the room, and now, after this, it's too much for him to hold out for long. The girl is ready, obviously, because her pussy is still wet, dripping, and she shivers when he pulls away. She struggles against her bonds again and Uther can see the red marks on her wrists. It sends a wave through his body, hot and intense; he's marked this girl. 

"What a big cock you have." He wonders just what Morgana would say in bed; she'd be demanding, he thinks, domineering in a way only she could manage. Or maybe she'd be welcoming and pliant, let him do this to her, sink into her body without a whimper. 

"All the better to fuck you with, my dear," he whispers, and curls his fingers into the straps on the hood, jerking her head back so he can thrust into her.

"Morgana," he growls, crawling over her body, his head next to hers, whispering through the hood. She can't hear, can't see him, can't smell him, can't taste him - so it's okay that he whispers her name, pretends that it is his beautiful, headstrong girl he's fucking when he pulls out and slides back in, hard and fast. 

It slakes his thirst for the moment, the tight body clenching around him, glorious against his cock, and the orgasm her pussy wrenches from him is intense. But he knows, as he dresses, it's only a matter of time before he wants it again. Wants to make a girl - his girl - aware of nothing but him.

-

"Good morning, Uther," Morgana says, walking into his office without knocking. He's mentioned it to her, the knocking issue, just like he's asked her to call him father. But it's Morgana; he rarely gets his way, and when he tries to insist, she just fights even more.

Sometimes, he likes to goad her. But he's relaxed and content that morning, so he leans back in his chair, looking at her. 

"Good morning." He nods to the folders she holds. "For me?"

"Arthur asked me to give them to you. He'll be out for the day." She tosses the folders on his desk, the action causing the bracelets she's wearing to slide down her arm. 

There are red marks on her wrist, faint but obvious.


End file.
